


Carefully Planned Ruin

by Lacerta26



Series: Keep Your Enemies Closer [5]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Arthur is not Chester King, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:53:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta26/pseuds/Lacerta26
Summary: Harry’s phone buzzes in his pocket, mid mission, when he’s crouched in a stationary cupboard while trying to avoid being detected by a lot of big men with even bigger guns; a text from Eggsy.*5 times Eggsy texts Harry and 1 time Harry texts Eggsy sort of thing.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Series: Keep Your Enemies Closer [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1207479
Comments: 5
Kudos: 120





	Carefully Planned Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> I had a little throw away line in part three of this series about Harry ignoring Eggsy's texts and I thought it would be fun to explore the interactions they have in between bumping into each other in person. 
> 
> You do need to have read the other stories to get this one but there are only four and they are fun, promise!
> 
> Title from From Russia, With Love. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

1.

Harry’s phone buzzes in his pocket, mid mission, when he’s crouched in a stationary cupboard while trying to avoid being detected by a lot of big men with even bigger guns. Hadn’t he put it on silent? Merlin gets annoyed when he gets distracted by his phone on missions but reading texts on the heads up display on his glasses gives him a headache. He fishes the phone out of his pocket; a text from Eggsy. It’s startlingly prosaic, _hey Haz what you up to ? x,_ and Harry resolutely ignores the pleased little trill it elicits. He quickly thumbs back, _Eggsy, on a mission. Please don’t call me Haz. H.H.,_ and puts the phone away, actually on silent this time. He spends the rest of the three hours and twenty six minutes he’s stuck in the cupboard itching to check if Eggsy’s bothered to reply.

In the sunshine outside the building, now home to several dead criminals, Harry glances at his phone with practiced nonchalance, _you know you don’t have to sign off every text, Haz._

_I am aware, thank you. H.H._

He climbs into his waiting cab, trying not to smile too obviously at his phone, ‘the shop please, David.’

‘Right-o, sir,’ David has been Harry’s regular driver for nearly a decade, unobtrusive, efficient, a master at evasive maneuvering under fire. He’s also had those ten years to document Harry’s every unconscious moment as seen via the rearview mirror so it comes as no surprise when he catches Harry’s eye and says, ‘waiting for something important, sir?,’ with a devilish wink.

‘Not at all,’ says Harry, pocketing his phone which he had been staring at relentlessly for the past 20 minutes as if that would cause it to manifest a new text from Eggsy.

Another 20 minutes later it _does_ buzz in his pocket and it’s an exercise in great restraint on Harry’s part that he waits 10 more to have a look, gratified by not one text but four.

_Sorry GALAHAD_

_You free 2mrrw? I Got a day off_

_The star in new cross at like 3?_

_xx_

Shit. He really is going to have to come clean to Merlin about this now. Properly this time.

2.

The next time Eggsy texts him he’s in a meeting with Arthur and his phone, face down on the desk between them, buzzes four times in quick succession. 

‘Do you want to check that?’ says Arthur as Harry’s phone buzzes for a fifth time, precariously close to vibrating itself off the desk, ‘it might be important.’

‘No, no, I’m sure it can wait,’ says Harry, already reaching, ‘I’ll just put it on silent.’

Arthur smiles in that benevolent way that is also extremely terrifying, ‘I insist, we can’t have you distracted.’

Harry reluctantly picks up his phone in the manner one might a ticking bomb. This time it’s whatsapp - a woefully unsecure way of communicating he spares a moment to think - and a string of messages from Eggsy.

_Hey Harry_

_I’m in a meeting but its well boring_

_You free soon for another date ?_

_Heres another pic for your collection x_

The final message is a picture of Eggsy and his pug, faces squashed together in the frame, the dog’s tongue poking out and Eggsy smiling that stunning smile of his. It’s a good job Harry’s sat down because that smile has never failed to make his knees go weak. He’s been resolutely ignoring the photo he stole from Eggsy’s fridge, carefully transferred from his wallet to the table in his hall, under the watchful eye of Mr. Pickles. He glances up from his phone to see Arthur looking incredibly smug, eyebrows raised, god he’s worse than Merlin sometimes.

‘I know that look,’ Arthur says, sagely, and Harry wipes the stupid grin off his face sharpish, ‘please, do reply to your young man.’

Christ, no Merlin is worse, the bloody fishwife. 

‘Arthur, I feel I must apologise. It was remiss of me to compromise Kingsman in this way but…’

Arthur waves a dismissive hand, ‘not to worry, not to worry. Merlin told me all about it. Clarissa knows exactly how to push your buttons doesn’t she? I should imagine it’s the state of your heart rather than Kingsman’s secrets we need to worry about, eh?’ 

‘Well…’

‘Don’t keep him waiting.’

He types out, _Eggsy, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to. And I don’t like to hear you’re taking your job anything less than seriously. H.H._ , and hits send. 

He reads it back, feeling the weight of Arthur’s expectant stare, does he always sound like such a curmudgeon, and adds, _Thank you, for the photograph._

Eggsy’s response is almost instant, how do the young people type so quickly these days?

 _You’re welcome You could of had a pic anytime if you’d asked,_ and Harry’s still trying to think of a response when Eggsy sends another, _And i seem to remember you being very complimentary of my on the job performance the first time we met,_ with a little yellow face Harry knows it would take him a good ten minutes to find on his keyboard. 

_It is important to take pride in one’s work. H.H._

_If you say so Sorry my bit of the meeting! X_

Harry finds himself smiling indulgently, gentle warmth suffusing his chest at the idea of Eggsy at work thinking of Harry in an idle moment. He looks up to see Arthur looking slightly less benevolent than before, ‘work to do, Galahad.’

‘Right, yes, sorry,’ Harry feels appropriately chastened although his thoughts don’t stray too far from Eggsy for the rest of the meeting. 

When he’s finally given lease to leave he makes it to the door before Arthur clears his throat purposefully; it’s one of his more irritating quirks, letting you think you’ve escaped before he says the most important thing in the whole conversation just as you have one foot out the door. Harry turns in resignation to find the old man smiling rather wistfully. 

‘We’re none of us getting any younger, enjoy yourself, Harry. Wits about you though, old chap.’ 

‘Of course, sir.’

Arthur waves him on with a wink and Harry privately vows never to tell Merlin another thing about his personal life.

3.

Merlin is late to the pub giving Harry a few minutes to fill and he finds himself scrolling back through his texts with Eggsy from the last few months. There are a few photographs; the sky over london tinged pink as Eggsy makes his way to work, several of his dog, one or two of Eggsy and his sister with silly images superimposed over their smiling faces. 

They’ve not seen each other since their afternoon at the pub but Eggsy keeps him entertained with a regular flow of messages. Harry is doing his best to be more circumspect but Eggsy’s enthusiasm is infectious, he seems to find joy in things so easily and is always ready to share that joy with Harry. 

‘Sending state secrets to your boy, are you?’ says Merlin, suddenly taking the seat opposite. Harry doesn’t start in surprise because he’s a trained spy but he rather wishes Merlin wouldn’t sneak up on him so effectively.

‘He’s not my boy,’ Harry says, more firmly than he means.

‘Having second thoughts are we?’ 

‘There’s nothing to have second thoughts about.’

‘Could’ve fooled me,’ says Merlin taking Harry’s phone out of his hands, holding up a recent photo of Eggsy and his housemate at what seems to be a spa, mud packs and cucumbers all, ‘this is dangerously close to a relationship.’

‘I’ve only spent any time with him in person twice. It’s a harmless flirtation, I wouldn’t read too much into it.’

Merlin looks at him shrewdly but relinquishes his control of Harry’s phone, ‘I’ve known you a long time, Harry, this isn’t like you.’

‘It’s exactly like me, sucker for a pretty face as you always say.’

‘It’s not just his face you’re interested in.’

‘His body’s a delight too, don’t you worry.’ 

‘ _Harry…’_

‘Merlin.’ 

‘You like him, there’s nothing wrong with that, but please be careful. For his sake if nothing else.’

‘Why would you possibly be worried about him?’

‘You’re a heartbreaker, Harry. Even if he’s in this for himself now he was sent by Clarissa that first time. Who knows what her true intentions are and what he’s got himself into.’

‘You think he’s playing me?’ this is the one thing Harry had been afraid of and Merlin’s got to the root of it barely half a pint in. There’s every chance he’s been deluding himself and all of Eggsy’s texts, every smile he threw to Harry during their two evenings together have been a lie. Secret agents have done worse before now but his uncertainty about Eggsy has kept him distracted, off his game and it really wouldn’t do to let Clarissa think she’s won. 

‘For what it’s worth, no, but you do and if you’re going to keep on with this you need to decide if it’s worth it, if he’s worth it.’

 _He is._ Harry thinks. Emphatically. 

‘It’s nothing, Merlin, really. A fling,’ he holds up his phone and with all the conviction of a condemned man says, ‘in fact I’m deleting his number and all his messages. Silly really, keeping them, I’m old enough to know better.’ 

Merlin looks at him like he’s sprouted an extra head, ‘that isn’t what I meant and you know it.’

‘Too late. It’s done.’

Later, when Eggsy’s number pops up instead of his name, Harry doesn’t delete it but he doesn’t reply either. It only takes a few weeks of strategically leaving Eggsy’s messages ignored for him to stop texting Harry at all. Harry tells himself he doesn’t miss it. Harry has always been a fantastic liar. 

4.

Christmas often passes Harry by; evil doesn’t care much for holidays and Harry usually finds himself regularly dispatched around the globe to combat it when everyone else is lying on the couch elbow deep in a tub of Quality Street. He’s never minded this state of affairs; he doesn’t have a family to speak of and of the members of Kingsman he would consider friends Merlin usually disappears to darkest Scotland, with a still uncanny ability to find the nearly non-existent 4G, and Alistair and James spend the holidays with their family in Wiltshire. Evil permitting, of course. 

This year, however, Harry finds himself surprised to be at home over the festive holiday with no pressing concerns on his time, no active missions and no one at all to share it with. He hadn’t bothered to get in the ingredients for a proper Christmas dinner, finds himself picking over the usual christmas snacks of twiglets and mince pies with a perpetual glass of champagne in his hand, and by 8pm on Christmas day he’s both drunk and nursing a hangover while watching a particularly fraught episode of Eastenders. 

Generally speaking, the life of a spy is just as glamorous and dangerous as everyone imagines. Harry gets to be charming and handsome in his sharp suit, swanning about saving the day and if he doesn’t think too hard about the lives he’s had to take or the missions spent crawling on his belly through mud and dirt for the indefinable goal of improving the world by even one iota it is mostly worth it. But at the end of the day he comes home alone and that is never more obvious on the rare christmas’ and birthdays he finds himself in his empty house without even Mr Pickle to comfort him. 

Fuck. He always gets morose when he’s been day drinking. 

It seems that the evening is heading towards some deeply trying introspection when Harry is drawn out of his mood by the chiming of his phone. He can’t immediately get his hands on it, scrabbling around in the sofa cushions and he struggles to focus, shoving his glasses haphazardly on his face and fighting the sudden urge to be sick. 

He doesn’t feel any better after his stomach gives a treacherous jump when he sees the message:

_merry christmas Harry x_

He’s not heard from Eggsy in several weeks and Harry wonders at the circumstances that have led Eggsy to send him a text. Is he too feeling drunk and maudlin, stuck on a mission or bored at home, hoping to rekindle the attraction between them? It makes Harry smile regardless and he’s halfway through typing a reply when he stops. There’s a reason he stopped texting the boy, too preoccupied by the web of agendas at play, too suspicious to enjoy Eggsy’s sincerity or his company properly. He deletes his half typed response and shoves his phone away, trying not to think too hard about Eggsy’s disappointment at being ignored; he’s a big boy and likely not nearly as invested as Harry’s imagining. Or so he hopes. 

Harry drags his attention back to Walford and it’s residents but his phone chimes again and he sees with a jolt of disappointment that it’s not Eggsy this time but Merlin.

_I need you to head into the shop - details incoming._

Harry presses the button on the side of his glasses to bring up the encrypted message.

_Movement at warehouse c1267x. Furthur recon required. Be ready for infiltration January._

Distraction, that’s what he needs, a mission that can carry him through to the new year where he can put this brief flirtation behind him. 

5.

Harry has been on this stakeout mission for four weeks, festering like some out of work actor in a Paris garret. Stir crazy and stuck inside he wishes he had something concrete to look at, a reminder of the outside world and, more specifically, the boy he’s promised a proper date to. It seems foolish to him now that he deleted everything from Eggsy off his phone in a fit of pique to prove an untruth to Merlin.

He’s dozing, the monitoring equipment set to ping his glasses if there’s movement across the street, when his phone buzzes beside him on the bed. He rolls over, the late afternoon sun blinding, and looks blearily at his phone. The residual fuzziness of an unplanned nap makes the string of letters and numbers Eggsy’s sent him so incomprehensible he isn’t entirely sure it wasn’t an accidental pocket text. He scrubs a hand over his face and looks again but nothing is any clearer, _wuu2?,_ what does that mean?

Is this like the emojis Eggsy occasionally sends? His colleagues have spent many a coffee break howling with laughter as Harry attempts to decode the little images. He excelled at code breaking, can spot a cypher at 100 paces and knows how to make invisible ink from several regular household products and still needed James and Alistair’s 15 year old niece to tell him why Eggsy kept sending him aubergines. Before he has a chance to submit himself to the indignity of a google search another notification pings on to his screen, _what time is it where you are?_

_16.23, you? H.H._

_Just gone midnight._

And then the little blinking ellipsis before, _E.U._

Harry frowns, sleep still clinging to the edges of his consciousness, why does Eggsy want to discuss the European Union, and then the dawning realisation - he’s taking the piss, Harry recalls him saying his last name was Unwin. 

Anything approaching wit always seems to fail him during these little chats with Eggsy and Harry is once again lost for something to say when Eggsy chimes in again with, _are you busy?_

Harry’s _not at all_ coincides exactly with another photograph - this one of Eggsy in a dimly lit hotel room, leaning against the headboard with one arm resting behind his head, his face only half in the frame. The soft lighting paints the lines of his torso gold and Harry is once again arrested by just how beautiful he is. 

The next is of Eggsy’s face earnest and shining even has he attempts something seductive.

_Alright, Haz? x_

_Yes, god, you’re stunning._

_Thanks_

_You wanna send me something_

Harry hesitates for all of 30 seconds before dialling Eggsy’s number.

‘Harry?’ Eggsy’s voice comes breathlessly down the phone 

‘I don’t think I’m quite up to taking anything worth sending.’

Eggsy huffs a laugh, ‘I don't know, bet you’d send something real classy. Get me all hot and bothered.’

‘Is that what you want? To be teased?’

‘No,’ is Eggsy’s immediate and petulant answer, and then, ‘go on then.’

‘Please.’

_‘Please, Harry.’_

‘Where are you?’

‘I can’t tell you that.’

‘I’m sure I can work it out. What are you doing?’

Eggsy giggles and Harry can picture exactly how he’s rolling his eyes. 

‘Alright, that I _can_ work out. What have you been doing?’

I can’t tell you that either,’ says Eggsy, exasperated but laughing with it, ‘I just got back to my hotel. What are you doing?’

‘Surveillance. Deeply tedious, I was just thinking about you actually,’ he’s not sure why he says it, the honesty of it spilling out of him with Eggsy safely hundreds of miles away.

‘Oh yeah? What were you thinking about me exactly?’ he sounds so pleased, so hopeful, still unsure of Harry and what’s been building between them. 

‘I was thinking about where I'm going to take you for dinner, how I'm going to take you bed afterwards.’ 

‘Somewhere well posh I bet. Gotta treat me right if you want me to put out, Harry.’ 

Harry chuckles, ‘I think we’re well past that dear boy.’ 

‘You saying I’m easy?’ 

‘Not at all. Will you touch yourself for me?’

Eggsy sorts again, ‘I’m already touching myself for you’

‘How are you touching yourself?’

‘What d’ya mean?’ Eggsy already sounds breathy down the phone, the rustle of clothing is quick, unstructured, he must have been most of the way there before Harry called. 

‘Fast, slow?’

‘Fast.’

‘Slow down for me.’

‘Urgh, Harry!’

‘Come on, I know you can.’ 

Eggsy breathes out sharply through his nose and Harry can hear him shifting about, resettling his phone. His voice when he speaks next is more level, ‘ok, ok. Tell me what to do.’ 

Harry shifts too, getting comfy against the pillows and transferring the call to his glasses so he has both his hands free. 

‘Touch yourself, slowly, imagine it’s me and how I would tease you.’

‘How would you tease me, Harry? We didn’t have much time for teasin’ before.’ 

‘You’re right, but next time we will,’ Harry eases his zip down slowly, wanting to focus on Eggsy’s pleasure first, ‘run your fingers, lightly, along your thighs.’

There’s some good natured grumbling from the other end of the line before Eggsy settles into the fact that Harry isn’t going to let him go straight for his dick. Harry smiles indulgently to himself, closes his eyes and imagines Eggsy in the golden dark of his hotel, then in the bright, clean light of _Harry’s_ hotel. What they could do, how good it would be. 

‘How does it feel?’

‘‘S nice, sorta tickles, but it's a bit weird doing this to yourself.’

‘But you’re not doing it to yourself, I am,’ Harry lets his voice go deep, heavy, he wants Eggsy to know he’s taking it seriously so he can let go of any lingering embarrassment and just enjoy this, ‘trace your fingers along the delicious cut of your hip, over your abs. Are you doing it, tell me?’ 

‘Yes, ‘m doing it exactly.’

‘Good boy,’ and Harry does not miss the strangled moan that pulls out of him. Interesting. 

‘What next?’

‘Lick your fingers, get them nice and wet,’ Harry listens intently to the sounds of Eggsy in his ear, wonders fleetingly if he still has the glasses he stole so they could see each other. It wouldn’t work anyway, they’re locked to Harry’s fingerprint, but the thought makes him flush down to his chest. 

‘Mmm,’ Eggsy sounds blissful and Harry lets him carry on uninterrupted before Eggsy says, ‘what are you doing, are you touching yourself?’

‘This is about you, and if you can speak you’re not doing as I asked.’

‘I did, then I touched my chest, my -’

‘Why don’t you touch your cock?’ Harry interrupts just to hear Eggsy’s sucked in breath.

‘Fuck yes.’

 _‘Slowly_ , remember?’

‘Yeah, yeah, slowly.’ 

Harry moves his hand now, spurred on by the distant, slick sound of Eggsy’s hand on his own prick, and the pleasure it sparks is quickly taking him closer than he intends but there’s no stopping now. He lets a breath out raggedly, opens his eyes. He's shocked by the brightness in the room, grounded by the feel of the sheets against him and his dick, hard and wet in his hand.

‘Harry, Harry, Harry,’ Eggsy is murmuring his name, low in Harry’s ear like he’s forgotten they’re talking, like he’s lost to the sensation and the whine Harry can hear behind the words is his tell - even after only three nights together he knows Eggsy’s close.

‘What are you thinking about, Eggsy, tell me,’

There’s silence for a long time, only the obscene sound of Eggsy fisting his dick, too fast, too desperate for release, desperate for Harry, ‘fuck me harry, can’t wait to see you again, can’t wait for you touch me, fuck me, _please -’_

‘I will, darling. Just you wait - I’ll start with my fingers - how many do you think you could take? Could you come like that for me? Just from my fingers inside you?’

‘Dunno, we could try, fuck, Harry, I wanna try.’

‘What does it feel like?’ Harry closes his eyes, again, tries to focus on the sounds of Eggsy gasping at him, anything to stave off the climax he’s barrelling towards as he strokes his own cock, trying to match Eggsy’s rhythm.

‘Good. It feels good. Want you to fuck me.’

‘Yes, I’ll put you on my cock and fuck you, never let you leave.’ 

Jesus -, fuu -’ that seems to do it for Eggsy and the rest of his sentence is just stuttered out consonants as he comes, the sound of it enough to take Harry over the edge, too. There’s few moments of dead air and then he comes back with more clarity, ‘shit, Harry, that was, did you?’ 

‘Yes, moments after you did. Thank you’

 _‘Thank you,’_ Eggsy laughs, ‘so polite, Harry, ridiculous. You meant it then? A date? When I get back from wherever and you get back from wherever.’

‘Yes, I meant it,’ and he did, _does_ , is truly thankful Eggsy has seen fit to wait for him.

‘Aces, let me know when and where, yeah?’ Harry can hear the smile in Eggsy’s voice, finds himself grinning in return even though no one can see.

‘Of course, I’ll text you the details.’

‘You better, gotta go. Bye Haz!’ 

‘Goodbye, Eggsy.’

6.

Harry gets comfortable on the jet that’s ready to bring him home from Salzburg. His latest mission was a fast and brutal firefight, adrenaline and no time for fear, and as he settles into his seat safe and ready to shake the lingering tension he does what he always does, now, following a mission; messages Eggsy. 

_On my way home, should be back in the early hours so don’t stay up. H.H. x_

His initials are an old joke now, something to make Eggsy smile but the kiss is new. Six months into Eggsy secondment to Kingsman and improbable though their courtship has been Harry can’t quite believe how he ever existed without him in his life. Eggsy’s reply is quick and to the point, somehow infusing the perfunctory method of communication with everything Harry has been missing from home. 

_Dw i don’t mind waiting up JB missed u! xxx_

When Harry does finally get home he finds Eggsy asleep on the sofa, curled around JB, the lights still on and his phone clutched in his hand. He blinks up at Harry dozily, the sound of the light being clicked off rousing him. 

‘I thought I told you to go to sleep,’ he says gently as Eggsy gets up and folds himself into Harry’s arms.

‘I told you, text you. I wanted to stay up and wait,’ Eggsy’s voice is muffled into Harry’s collar and bleary from sleep as Harry attempts to draw him towards the stairs.

‘Well, I’m home now. Let’s get to bed.’

‘Yeah,’ says Eggsy, halfway to drifting back off, ‘we’re home.’

  
  



End file.
